


now is the hour

by bleakmidwinter



Category: Rope (1948)
Genre: Frottage, Kissing, M/M, Sexual Tension, Trains, Wrestling, Young Love, prep school era, sometimes if you're brandon and phillip, to the max dude, train car romance you know how it is, wrestling leads to sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-04 23:36:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18354047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleakmidwinter/pseuds/bleakmidwinter
Summary: brandon and phillip wrestle to see who gets the bottom bunk in their train car





	now is the hour

**Author's Note:**

> concept taken from the producer's version of "compulsion" and title of fic from bing crosby's song "now is the hour"

Phillip can feel hay digging lines into the flesh of his thighs which is exposed beneath the hem of his shorts, showing only enough before his garters and socks. There's stacks of hay throughout the train car they've situated themselves in, and Brandon says his mother always forgets to take it out to the farm. Maybe Phillip can help with that when they get there. 

 

It's a bit of a trip, not too long, but not too short either. So much so, there is a cheap bunk bed in the corner of the car, and they're both rather tired. Phillip’s come out to the farm before, but in the morning. Traveling at night is never the best option, yet Phillip can’t deny the aesthetic pleasure of seeing out into the cornfields and the night sky through the hatch in the train car that might be classified as a window. The moon reflects on nothing outside, because everything in Connecticut is product, and wheat, and  _ earth _ .

 

Brandon is the first one to suggest they rest, after setting down two strings of hay he'd been trying to tie in a knot. Feeling slightly disoriented from the rumbling of the train beneath him, and the heat of summer, Phillip nods and takes a few moments to stand without tipping over. 

 

Brandon goes over to sit on the bottom bunk. Phillip shifts awkwardly, cheeks turning a peachy color that Brandon seems to recognize before Phillip can even form his own thoughts.

 

“Something wrong?”

 

“I think I’m afraid of heights,” Phillip says just as he realizes it. He doesn't want to sleep on the top bunk. 

 

“Well, what a perfect way to get over it,” Brandon says, gesturing upwards. It's dark up there. The moonlight from the window doesn't quite reach the cramped space.

 

After a few beats of silence, and of Brandon no longer being able to take Phillip's expression of distress, he begins to furiously dig through his wallet, and brings out something shiny and round.

 

“How about we flip a coin, Phillip? Fair and square? No complaining if you lose,” Brandon says wagging the coin in front of Phillip's face.

 

Phillip nods. “Sure.”

 

“I'm heads, you're tails,” Brandon says.

 

It happens in three seconds, the coin goes up, it flips once or twice, and then comes down.  _ Tails _ . Phillip's eyes widen; for some reason he'd automatically expected everything to work in Brandon's favor, as life normally does.

 

Despite his request for Phillip to not act the sore loser, Brandon is rather irate about this decision himself.

 

“I always sleep on the bottom,” he says through gritted teeth. Phillip feels a wrenching in his gut.

 

“Brandon, if you're that uncomfortable with the top, I can — ”

 

“No!” Brandon snaps. “It's fine. It was fair game. Take it,” he waves a hand nonchalantly at the bottom bunk. He stands and shoves Phillip forward. “Go!”

 

Phillip sits down, and feels worse than he did a few minutes ago. He doesn't take notice of Brandon while hes undressing to his undergarments, but as he's halfway done with his white button-up, he's being tackled into the springy mattress. 

 

With a yelp, Phillip begins to flail and tense up, thinking that Brandon's gone mad all of a sudden and is attacking him, but there's a goofy grin on his face, devious even.

 

“What if I wrestle you for it?” Brandon asks. “I toss you out, I win.”

 

Phillip's face is completely red, and he's trying not to think about how Brandon is between his legs and how his face is inches from his own.  _ Hell _ , he's going to pass out before he can even respond. Brandon doesn't seem to need a response though, as he starts grabbing Phillip by the wrists, and attempts to slide him off towards the splintered wood floor of the train car.

 

Fight or flight kicks in and saves Phillip from what he thought would be an inevitable unconscious plight, and he's fighting back. Clearly, he surprises Brandon with his own strength, and he's able to push Brandon into the wall the bunk is pushed up against, and turn the tables on him by shoving him face down into the mattress. 

 

There is a big “oof” sound from him, and he kicks his long legs up, hitting the sides of Phillip's ribs with his bony feet. Phillip curses and leans off for a moment, which Brandon uses to his advantage and flips around, a grin still spread wide on his face. He grabs Phillip by his waist and flips him onto his back and tries grabbing him by the legs and thighs this time for better leverage. 

 

What Brandon ends up inadvertently doing is pulling Phillip forward so harshly that their groins bump together, hips connecting. Phillip lets out a strange noise. It's then the train apparently hits a bump in the track, and the train car jerks and they shift hard against each other again. Phillip feels a sharp jolt of unbridled arousal, shoot straight to his cock, and he's sure Brandon feels it too as his eyes bulge oddly, his grin now dissipated.

 

More embarrassed than he's ever been, Phillip does everything he can to pretend the lower half of his body does not exist. He opens his mouth to speak, but Brandon still on top of him shifts forward on purpose, rubbing them together more firmly.

 

Phillip makes an unbecoming noise that seems to excite Brandon, because Phillip can feel Brandon hardening against his own untimely erection.

 

There is a few seconds of silence and staring, and close heavy breathing before Brandon crashes their mouths together. Phillip grips him by the shoulders to slow him down. This is actually happening. It feels hard to swallow, or breathe. Suddenly they're not wrestling anymore, but Brandon is starting to move them together with the rhythm of the train on the bumpy tracks. And Phillip isn't telling him to stop. 

 

Brandon's face has found its way into Phillip's neck as he begins to thrust down more pointedly. He bucks forward off rhythm a few times clearly getting caught up in the feeling of it all. Phillip shakily runs a hand through the hair on the nape of Brandon's neck, and his hips roll up on their own. He’s sure he’s making some sort of noise, he has to be, but he can’t hear himself over the sound of the blood rushing in his ears.. Brandon grabs one of Phillip's wrists, but it's not to throw him off this time, it's for Brandon to pin above both of them, to have Phillip more under his control.

 

The more Phillip moves, the more the twisting in his gut burns and tightens. He grips tighter at Brandon's hair, even tugging it. Brandon reaches a hand down in between them to take Phillip's thigh with a bruising grip and elevate him further into his sharp movements. Phillip cranes his neck back, and bites his lip til he tastes blood. “Brandon,” he mutters. He’s not sure if it’s the first thing he’s said. Even as the pace picks up, Phillip's mind is languid and jelly-like. His thoughts fuzzy and warm and without words or concept.

 

Brandon finally seems to gain some sense of self amidst the blinding heat, and kisses Phillip's neck softly as if he were something to be treasured. It's a gentleness Phillip's never known Brandon Shaw to have, and in a rush of passion, he grabs Brandon by the face with two hands and drags him up to kiss him on the lips again. It's sloppy, and Brandon's hips falter, so Phillip wraps his legs, socks and garters and all, around his waist and drags him back down into him. The warmth between them is sickening and arousing and so damn  _ hot _ in every sense of the word that Phillip almost feels like he's about to combust.

 

It all unravels in the next few seconds and Phillip pulls away from their kiss and he gasps against Brandon's spit-slick lips. His cock twitches against the tight confines of his shorts when he comes, feeling suffocated and light-headed and oddly in love. “Brandon,” Phillip moans softly, tugging him down with his legs to keep close to him as he comes down from his orgasm. At the sound of his name, Brandon follows suit, going rigid over Phillip, and letting out a pitchy, shaky breath in Phillip's ear. Phillip strokes his hair, helping him ride through it.

 

Brandon is draped over him after it all, panting. Their groins hot and sticky between them, and everything feels sweaty but  _ good _ . Like it should have been like this for years. Phillip dares to bring a hand up to intertwine their fingers together. Brandon doesn't make a move to stop him, and eventually Phillip assumes he's asleep. 

 

Phillip doesn’t allow his eyes to flutter shut even as the train threatens to rock him into a much needed sleep. The conductor will be around at some point to wake them up if they don’t leave the train car themselves, and Phillip can’t risk him seeing them in such a state of undress. He waits until he can see the sky turn purple and pink through the train hatch to wake Brandon. 

**Author's Note:**

> sometimes i just have things in my draft i don't post until i've actually taken the time to edit it


End file.
